Engines of the World
by PolkaDotSideplates
Summary: Hear stories from enterprising engines all over the world across all time periods. Yes, the Great Race characters will all appear eventually. Feel free to review!
1. The Teenys and the Penguins

1920s

The Camber Railway was the Falkland Islands' only railway. It ran 3.5 miles from Stanley to the docks. It was occupied by 2 twins named Teeny 1 and Teeny 2, after their basis, the Kerr Stuart 'Wren'. It was built to support the Admiralty Wireless Station in 1915. This is their story.

One harsh winter morning, Teeny 1 was taken out of the shed to take a train. The Wren's cabs were not fit for the harsh winters of the Falklands, and worse, they didn't make suitable snowplows. A wooden one had been made by the village carpenter, but the snow today was still too thick, so the workmen had to shovel away the snow to even get to the siding. The Cumber Railway didn't have much in rolling stock, only a few wooden wagons with removable seats, a small steam crane truck named Nelly, 2 tipper wagons, and 2 flatbeds.

He took all the wagons, and headed to the platform for them to be filled with coal. When he arrived there, he found large crates with the coal.

"These are the supplies to repair the Wireless, you'll have to fetch the flatbeds and Nelly. We can slide the crates on here, but we need her to unload them properly at the Wireless."

"That's absurd, we'll have to make two trips! The line isn't safe for all that!"

"This is urgent! Start up the second engine!"

"That'll take longer! Do you know anything about engines? We'll take the risk, but if anything happens, you're in trouble."

Anyone who knows the Falklands knows that if you leave the safety of the town, you'll see miles of rough, muddy terrain. The line was a lot like that. The tracks didn't have ballast and some parts of the line didn't even have sleepers! Now the frost and snow had made the rails more dangerous than usual, and Teeny 1 was fighting to keep his heavy load on the rails.

Suddenly, he came to a slope, and slid down the icy tracks, his brakes not able to stop the cavalcade. He rounded the bend, and his driver jumped clear as Teeny 1 toppled over and onto the rocky shore. Coal flew everywhere, the crates were crushed open, and Nelly was badly damaged.

"I'll get that delivery man!" cried the driver.

The villagers were able to lift the rolling stock onto the rails, and cattle dragged wagons to deliver the supplies in time. But Teeny 1 and Nelly were both too heavy.

When the snow melted, they reasoned, they could use a pulley system to get Nelly back onto the rails, then uses her to get Teeny 1 onto the rails. But the snow was months from melting.

Now Teeny 2 had to do all the work. And even with the lighter loads, he had trouble with the slope too. But they couldn't renovate the tracks until late spring, and even then that would only be if they could acquire the resources.

Eventually, penguins came and lined up to examine Teeny 1 and Nelly. The steam engine liked the company, but he'd still rather be back on the rails.

That's when it hit.

Torrential spring rains always hurt the ground, especially near the shore, so after a 3-day rain, a workman had to inspect the line for damage. He found nothing, so cleared the line for Teeny 2.

The rain had melted the snow, but now there was a large lake built up close to the line. The penguins, still nesting near the wreckage, noticed water starting to trickle down to the ocean. Then, the ground tumbled downwards, leaving the tracks suspended in the air!

Then the penguins heard Teeny 2's whistle! Several of the penguins climbed up to the track and bawked loudly.

The driver saw them on the line and slammed on the brakes. The penguins scattered, but as Teeny 2 started going down the slope, he understood why the penguins were on the line. He threw Teeny 2 into reverse, and jumped clear, almost hitting a penguin. Teeny screeched to a halt right before the end of the track!

"Hooray!" cried Teeny 1 and Nelly. The penguins squawked in approval.

But the joyfulness didn't last long, as Teeny 2, still in reverse, began to back out toward Stanley without his driver.

"Stoooooop!" cried his driver. And ran after his engine.

After Teeny 1 and Nelly the crane were rescued, the penguins kept nesting there to watch the trains. The railway sadly, exists no more, but today the nesting ground is affectionately called "Railway Nest".


	2. The Train from Bloemfontein

2005

Based off a true story

Pride of Pretoria was a massive 15F who pulled passenger trains in South Africa. She was the pride of the line, often pulling the Blue Train across the continent. Built in Glasgow by the North British Locomotive Co. in the 50s, she and her siblings were shipped around the world to pull long-distance trains.

But now, steam was dead. Diesels now crossed the African deserts were the steam engines used to be heard for miles. Pretoria and her friends were in a scrapyard in Bloemfontein, once a massive railroad hub, waiting to be melted down. Pretoria's day was approaching soon, and to be honest, she was kind of relieved. The only thing worse than a near immediate death, is waiting decades for your death.

And that's when the people arrived. She didn't care at first, rail enthusiasts often came here to take pictures. But when they began to make phone calls and some of the men pulled out large cameras, she knew something was up.

"We're rail enthusiasts from your birthplace, Glasgow. We're here to rescue you."

Pretoria's boiler was bursting with excitement! She asked about the large cameras.

"We're from Monster Moves," said one of the men. "It's a television series where we film people moving large and delicate things, like lighthouses, churches, and you."

"I can live with that," said Pretoria. Then she looked around. "What about my friends," she worried.

"Don't worry about us, bring our souls home to Scotland too," said a good friend of Pretoria's, British Embassy. This reassured Pretoria, but the men felt sad that they were leaving the other engines to their deaths.

The next day, they started planning the journey.

"We have to get to the port in Durban in 7 days, so we can catch the ship to Hamburg. On the way, it'll stop at Tidmouth, which is where we'll get off. There, we'll arrange for the NWR to take us to Glasgow, where we'll place you in front of a museum for a while."

"Then what?" asked Pretoria.

"Who knows," said the leader, "you could stay there forever as a symbol of Glaswegian locomotives around the world, or you could be renovated and put into service on a heritage railway. Anyway, shall we start the inspection?"

The inspection revealed many things. Firstly, Pretoria hadn't been properly cleaned when she was put in her siding. Now dust, sand and grease had made a substance similar to peanut brittle in the axles. If Pretoria moved on her own wheels, lots and lots of grease would have to be placed into her axles several times during the journey. It was also found that her brake blocks were very loose, so in the high mountains between Bloemfontein and Durban, it would be easy to cause a runaway. The third, which wasn't a surprise to anyone, was that Pretoria was completely unfit to run under her own power. And final important thing they found was that termites had gotten to the floor in her cab. Since there would have to be people inside Pretoria monitoring everything during the journey, this was a big problem.

Meanwhile, the captain of the Diamond Land was receiving instructions from Durban for docking. As the dock manager double-checked the stops, the captain interrupted him.

"It's Lagos, Tanger, TIDMOUTH, Antwerpen and Hamburg."

"My notice from your company doesn't say Tidmouth, and we have no containers headed there."

"We have a contract to bring a steam locomotive there," cried the captain, clearly worried.

"Well, they can wait. The needs of that silly children's show doesn't override basic legal shipping documents. And your ship is not headed for Tidmouth."

"Grr!" cried the captain. And cut the transmission.

Back in Bloemfontein, the crew had decided that Pretoria was going to have to go by road.

"But even then, it's risky," explained Andrew, the leader, "Pretoria's too heavy for most trailers. We'd need a trailer with 6 axles to spread the weight of the locomotive, and who knows what'll happen if there's a tunnel, or worse, a weak bridge!"

When they got the trailer, they were building the ramp, when someone found a bad omen. The scrapyard gate was several centimeters too low. This meant the top had to be removed.

That's when it got worse.

A visit from the transport police ended the line for the road transport. The policeman insisted that the trailer wasn't sturdy enough. And the only sturdier one wasn't even on this side of the continent.

So Andrew, followed by the cameramen, wasted no time in going to the Spoornet offices to hire a diesel to shunt Pretoria to Durban Docks. But there was a hitch. Because of the gunk in the axles, and the overall bad condition of Pretoria, they would have to go very slowly on an express route, which was the fastest way to the sea. Spoornet agreed to have them take a rural track to Durban. However, this was also risky, as breaking down could mean being stranded for days. They also agreed to provide them with 10 flatbeds. Each flatbed had the braking power for 13 extra tons. In the mountains, that would be very useful. The final condition was that Andrew find an actual steam driver to take care of Pretoria. Andrew called around and found a willing driver from Johannesburg. Logistically, everything was ready.

When they arrived back at the scrapyard, the workmen were greasing every moving part of Pretoria.

"We can't trust any part of this locomotive to do it's job," explained one of the upper workmen to the cameramen. Had Pretoria been in steam she would have wheeshed him.

"It's all right," said British Embassy, "it's only for your own good."

The floor in the cab had been replaced, and Pretoria's brake pipes had been checked for leaks, when they got a call from Pete, the replacement driver. He'd missed his flight. They would have to leave the next morning. And now Spoornet was insisting that they run at night as well to make up for lost time.

At 6:00, they began coupling up the flatbeds and preparing for the journey. It was a very emotional moment, especially for the engines.

"Goodbye!" cried the engines to each other, and the workmen waved to Andrew and his team as they raced off to tame Africa's great plains.

"When they were loading these locomotives onto the ship, who would have guessed that one would come back. It would have been beyond anyone's imagination," said the other leader to the cameraman in her cab.

Saved from the torches of the breaker's yard,

30 years of service under African guard.

Restored and oiled for one last ride,

6000 miles to take in it's stride!

This is the train from Bloemfontein,

Mighty workhorse of the African plain.

This is the train from Bloemfontein,

Off in Scotland, home again!

It took a full hour to get to the next town, but Pete was worried about the gunk in the axles. Indeed, it was heading up rapidly, and something had to be done. They decided to place new grease sticks in the bearings. As the friction made from the gunk and the axles made heat, the sticks would melt and flush out the gunk. This however, would be have to done once every hour. So every hour they stopped to add more sticks. This was very time-consuming. During the trip it was also found that the brake blocks where being troublesome and may fall off, or get stuck. So they removed them all completely, which took another hour. Finally, they were into the mountains.

Into the valley of a thousand peaks,

Twisting and turning, the mountain class creaks.

Icy wind bites, but no blazing coal,

This arduous journey is taking it's toll!

This is the train from Bloemfontein,

Mighty workhorse of the African plain.

This is the train from Bloemfontein,

Off in Scotland, home again!

Finally, the cavalcade reached Durban, and everyone went to their hotel after Pretoria had been uncoupled. But they could never have imagined the 800 meter hell between them and the quay...

The next morning the small shunter that was supposed to shunt Pretoria had broken down. And the team and finally learned from the Diamond Land about the diversion.

"All I'm concerned about at the present," explained Andrew on his phone, "is to get the loco onto the ship. We don't care what happens afterwards; as long as we get into the Northern Hemisphere we'll sort it out from there but we don't want to go to Antwerp and we don't want to go to Hamburg."

"We're going to Hamburg," he told everyone.

Two hours later, the shunter finally arrived. But the rails were worn and rarely used. They groaned under the weight of Pretoria, and then the crew noticed something else. A bit farther ahead, the rails were placed in the cement. Over the years the rails were filled with rocks and dirt. They had to work hard to gut them out, but even then Pretoria and the shunter were moments away from rolling off the tracks.

And then things only got better.

A lazy truck had parked on the rails, and it's driver was nowhere to be seen.

At the dockyard building, the dock manager slammed the phone down. "I'm sick and tired of this locomotive! I'm not going to take care of this. You go!" He pointed at one of his best foremen.

"But sir-"

"Go! And when you come back I don't want to hear about this 16X anymore!"

The foreman, it turned out, was very friendly, and after failed attempts to hotwire the truck, he brought in a forklift!

"This never should have happened, I don't know who gave this truck permission to park here, but we'll take care of it in the future. And good luck on your mission!"

The truck said nothing, he was very embarrassed as the forklift put him down between some empty containers.

It's said that's he's still there today.

Finally, they reached the quay. Now they faced another problem. The ship's cranes were not large enough to lift Pretoria. Nor were the dock cranes. The only crane big enough for the job was a massive sea-mounted crane, who could pick up Pretoria, and place it in the Diamond Land's hold.

But even lifting the engine at all was a trial. To lift Pretoria, they would have to place loading bars under her. But there was only one flat, suitable place at the back. At the front, they'd have to attach the chains directly to Pretoria.

But the first time they tried to lift Pretoria, they found that the beam supporting the cradle was too long, and made the locomotive unbalanced. Instead they needed two shorter beams to make a triangle, compensating for the heavier backside. They loaded the tender first, then started the time consuming process of making a new cradle. The Diamond Land had to leave now, or the storms wouldn't let them leave the cape. The wind was acting up as Pretoria finally flew into the air, and made touchdown on the dock of the mobile crane.

Luckily, there were no more problems for the Diamond Land on it's way to Germany. Nor was there a problem getting it to Sodor. They had to charter a ship to Brendam instead, but the NWR's 9 and 10, Donald and Douglas were happy to attach her lowloader to their train to Scotland.

It's not really the truth to say she was built in Scotland. Her components were built at the North British Railroad Co, but she'd been assembled fresh off the ship in South Africa. She'd never known this much green, or this many engines, or even this daytime temperature. When she got to Glasgow at midnight, she was put in front of the museum.

And she remembered all her friends back home. They could now die happy that Pretoria had gone back to Scotland, where they were made, and that she could have a good life on a railway after this exhibit.


	3. Gator goes far

Columbia, late 1950s

Gator is... damn it, we all know who Gator is, so let's get on with it!

Gator was working high up in the Columbian mountainside as usual. He was the last of his siblings to still be working, for local prowess didn't extend to working five 12-cylinder locomotives. To keep the railway open, however, Gator, the engine with the worst repairs had been sent to the Island of Sodor soon after the war.

Now he was the last running, and though some men tried to fix his brothers, he was the only one running.

There were other problems too. On his travels, he'd met an engine named Percy, and helped him overcome his fear of monsters. Now, strangely, he felt obligated to not be scared on bridges or over cliffs for Percy's sake. But he still was very scared, and longed to go back to Sodor or Belgium, where he was tested.

So one day, when he was told to collect some freight cars from Bogota, he easily accepted.

Bogota had a station just as big as Vicarstown, and Gator was eager to pick up his trucks. The yard manager came over.

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we need. This silly diesel has broken down, and we need a strong and flexible engine to take this train to Lima."

"Lima," thought Gator.

"Lima," thought Gator.

"LIMA?!" he and his driver cried.

"We have to decline, we're here to take supplies up the villagers."

"Actually, we don't have your supplies. Your line is closing."

"That doesn't mean that-"

"You're taking the train to Lima and that's final!"

And Gator chuffed away. "What will happen to the villagers?" he asked his driver.

"I'm sure the supplies will get to them somehow. The only thing we can do is get this train to Lima and back fast."

But the Andes were higher here than on his line. Gator was almost constantly on the edge of a cliff. Then he came to a bridge.

He was in a long, dark tunnel, so he didn't know there was a bridge until he was on it. This bridge made the long viaduct on his line look like a bouncy castle in terms of safety. The bridge was much, much higher than any bridge he'd seen before. And Gator was wider than the bridge was. The rails were almost over the edge. His only consolation was that it was made of stone.

Gator shut his eyes tightly, and didn't open them until he was back in the tunnel.

"Hey!" cried his driver, "what do you think you're doing? We have to get to Lima." And the driver opened Gator's regulator.

They say deep in the jungle there's a tribe that heard Gator's screams of fear and has a festival every year to the god who shouted down at them.

Gator had passed out by the time he got to Lima's station.

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we need. This silly diesel has broken down, and we need a strong and flexible engine to take this train to Santiago."

"Santiago," thought Gator.

"Santiago," thought Gator.

"SANTIAGO?!" he and his driver cried.

"Yes, now attach yourselves to that passenger train, it's already late."

"But-"

"I don't care, get going!"

So they set off for Santiago.

More high hills and new Indian festivals later, they arrived in Santiago.

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we need. This silly diesel has broken down, and we need a strong and flexible engine to take this train to Valparaiso."

"Valparaiso," thought Gator, "Hey, that's not that bad."

"We need to get home to our line in Columbia," begged his driver.

"Too bad."

I'll bet you can guess what happened at Valparaiso, right?

There were a lot less mountains on the way to Punta Arenas then the earlier parts of the trip, but Gator was still tired and weary when he got there.

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we need. This silly diesel has broken down, and we need a strong and flexible engine to take this passenger train to Buenos Aires."

"Buenos Aires," thought Gator.

"Buenos Aires," thought Gator.

"BUENOS AIRES?!" he and his driver cried.

"Can't you get some better diesels?" moaned Gator, as he chuffed away.

I'll give you one guess at what happened at Buenos Aires.

Wrong! They were allowed to go home! Finally!

They slept at Cordoba for the night, but you can guess what happened when they woke up can't you?

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we need. This silly diesel has broken down, and we need a strong and flexible engine to take this train to Montevideo."

"Montevideo," thought Gator.

"Montevideo," thought Gator.

"MONTEVIDEO?!" he and his driver cried.

Now Gator speaks English, Spanish, and French fluently. He curses in all 3 at once.

Kudos to you if you're still reading all this.

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we need. This silly diesel has broken down, and we need a strong and flexible engine to take this train to Rio de Janeiro."

"Rio," thought Gator.

"Rio," thought Gator.

"RIO?!" he and his driver cried.

Halfway there, on the beautiful coastal track, the driver pointed something out.

"You know, we are getting closer to home."

"In the same way going from Vladivostok to Shanghai is getting 'closer to home'." Gator was, quite understandably, in a bad mood.

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we-"

"Yes, yes, we're going to Fortaleza."

At Fortaleza, they were told to go to Paramaribo, where they were told to go to Caracas, where they were told to go to Medellin.

The yard manager walked up.

"Excuse me, but if you wouldn't mind, could you take this freight train to a village just south of here?"

"They won't say yes," said his assistant.

"Absolutely!" they cried, and in no time were on their way home.

"They won't say yes, huh?"

Gator and his crew returned home, proud and triumphant and to a wave of cheers from the villagers.

The mayor however, was really pissed at the fact that it took 4 months to get the supplies when the village was right between Medellin and Bogota. Now the supplies are taken by plane daily. And Gator did random things around South America until his boiler expired and he was scrapped.

I killed off my first character! Get used to it!


	4. On the Edge of The World

Set: Modern Day, early spring/September

No railway shows the widespread use of rail around the world than the Fin del Mundo line in Argentina. All day long, it's three narrow-gauge engines, Camila, Porta, and Zubieta chuff up and down the line pulling passengers and posing for pictures.

Ushuaia was formed by Argentina as a penal colony, like Australia to England. But it would get very cold in winter, and Ushuaia was not placed in the ideal spot for resources. So, the prisoners built their own railway to transport lumber and other materials to the town. After the prison was closed and landslide blocked the line, however, it had to be closed.

In 1994, the line was rebuilt as a luxurious tourist attraction. Camila, built in England, and the two Garratts, Porta and Zubieta worked the line, with several diesels on display, sometimes used to repair the line.

Porta was angry. A passing off-roader had passed her where the road meets the railway, but had splashed mud all over her in the process! And her driver had the audacity to not clean her until they got to the shed!

"I can't clean you now!" the driver said, "Your boiler is too hot. I would hurt myself."

"Pah! I wouldn't hurt you. You're my driver. I'd only hurt you if you DIDN'T CLEAN ME UP!"

Zubieta laughed. "You're all muddy! Did you fall in the swamp?"

Porta wheeshed loudly.

"You know I didn't, those silly tourists splashed me with their cars! Just wanted a good picture, huh? How photogenic am I now? And driver says he can't clean me until my boiler is cool. How silly is that?"

"Humans," explained Camila, "feel more kinds of pain than we do. When it gets too hot, they feel pain, when they touch sharp objects, they feel pain-"

"And why don't we feel that pain?"

"We, have boilers, have boilers. Since we're so used to the extreme heat, we don't feel it. And we're completely metal, so sharp objects can't hurt us."

Porta didn't listen. Now she was mad at humans, and particularly her driver, for putting her in this dreadful, muddy state.

A third of the way up the line, there's a small station where the tourists can get off and take pictures at a viewpoint .Porta was fuming at the funnel, ready for her return journey home. When she got home, driver could clean her up again.

But one passenger, while climbing back down to the train, had fallen and broken his leg, and needed help to slowly get down.

"If we leave now, he can just catch Zubieta's train, she's right behind us!"

"No," insisted her driver, "we'll wait for them to get down ourselves. We can't leave a passenger behind, even if there is another train."

Porta hooshed steam loudly in anger!

Zubieta, as Porta had said, had indeed arrived by the time the injured passenger got to the platform. Meanwhile, the passengers had taken more and more pictures of her. Finally, they left.

"Stupid driver, making us late, I need to get cleaned!" Then an idea flew into her funnel.

It wasn't a very elaborate one, trust me.

Porta could see the bridge up ahead, so she started to sway and lurch. She swayed and lurched so hard, she knocked her driver out the right side of her cab!

"Ha, that'll teach him. Let's hope fireman can't stop until I've crossed the bridge. Then my stupid driver will have to SWIM across!"

But fireman didn't apply her brakes, as when Porta looked to her left, she realized her fireman had been knocked off as well!

"Oh no! Stop!"she cried.

Now the engines don't go particularly fast on this line, but Porta was still too fast! Camila heard her pleas for help first.

"Mr. Shunter! Switch the points into the sidings! There's a melting pile of snow and dirt that might stop her!"

Porta shut her eyes tightly, as she plowed into the slushy pile of cold mud with a big THUD! But the mud didn't stop her. She rolled a good hundred yards before finally coming to a stop under a tree.

Porta wheeshed loudly at the tourists, who flocked around her taking pictures.

"It's very photogenic," one of them said, "She's currently THE southern most engine."

"It's a shame she's all dirty," laughed another.

Porta hissed loudly, and used her last reserve of steam to soak the tourists closest to her. She never went any farther south ever again.


	5. Ashima comes back

Set: 1981

It was tourist season on the Island of Sodor, and all the engines were busy. The coaches would barely rest for minutes before being taken on another train. The freight trains were in heavy supply too, as most of the more prominent tender engines hauled coal, slate and goods trains across the island.

Neville, for example, went into the hills to get coal, took it to Brendam, where he'd take a goods train to Norramby, then take empty cars to Vicarstown, where he'd grab empty coal cars and go back to the coal mines. Nonstop.

In the same way, both Whiff and Scruff had to work hard collecting rubbish from all over the island, then making plenty of runs to the smelters and the Recycling Plant because PEOPLE CAN'T SORT THEIR TRASH!

Toby had also grown tired of moving stone from the quarries, even though he wouldn't let Mavis help him, as much as she insisted.

So it's fitting that all three's boiler expired that year.

Sir Richard Hatt, being the meticulous and up-to-date man he is, has an alarm set for each of his steam engines boiler certificates. And he was quite upset when he found out the three hard-working engines (Neville, Whiff, and Toby) were going to have to be out of service for the next months. So he had to get other engines...

D40125 was not happy to be on this scrap-heap of an island again. Last time he'd come, he'd gone through the wall at Tidmouth Sheds. Now he had to fill in for one of the engines for what, a year?

He turned around at Wellsworth like he was told to, but was less than amused at the branch line he was on.

"Are you sure this is the right track, driver? It seems like a bit of a branch line," he stated blantantly. As he rounded the bend, the township of Miner's Halt appeared, only reinforcing his argument.

"We're in the right place, ol' feller, just be glad you aren't near those filthy steam engines." His driver was also a steam hater, under the pretext that they weren't nearly as efficient as diesels, and thrice as dirty.

But when they arrived, D40125 spluttered at the sight of a coal mine! And not a coach to be seen!

"Cor! This isn't a passenger job is it? Now we have to take coal to feed those filthy steamies?"

The workmen nearby all whistled at the large diesel. The mine engineer arrived.

"Well," he examined the Class 40, "we weren't expecting such a... big engine. Now Neville isn't small, but I'm surprised you even got up here!"

"Don't underestimate diesel power!" grumbled D40125, "I can climb any gradient, the hill coming here was nothing!"

"Ah, you're strong then. In that case, you wouldn't mind taking more cars?"

"Me and my big mouth," he thought. "Of course we can," he said confidently, "I'm a diesel."

"Come on, ol' boy," said his driver, "let's show this island what diesel power can do!"

A young diesel shunter by the name of Larry was already had at wok at the waste dump with Scruff. The two spent all day biffing the trucks about, and getting all dirty. That is, until the purple diesel arrived.

D1052 "Western Viceroy" was a diesel bought by the North Western before it was scrapped. It is kind of like the envoy from Sodor, doing odd jobs around the Lake Region and delivering trains at Vicarstown when no one is about. Western Viceroy is always the first the Fat Controller calls on for secretive projects or otherwise distant trains. And now he was here. Every week he pulled in with a long train of rubbish from the mainland, and would harrass the steam engines.

"Ah, I see one of those scruffy-looking engines was scrapped. Good riddance, I say."

"Who're you calling scruffy-looking?" asked Scruff ironically.

"Steam engines are really useful, too!" said Larry indignantly. "They're just as useful as us diesel engines!"

"Ha, you've fallen to this island's propaganda, I see. No matter, a tiny little shunter like you isn't worth my time here anyway."

"Why you-" shouted Larry, and biffed the trucks hard. They impacted with Western Viceroy, and trash flew all over him!

"Pah!" he spluttered. "Why you-"

Western Viceroy chased after Larry through the yard, and quickly had him cornered against some points.

"All right, shorty, it's time for your lights to go out. No one disrespects me: I'm one of Diesel 10's main hands, and-"

He never finished his sentence. Larry had gotten away, and Scruff had shoved Western Viceroy onto the points. He skidded along the iron rails, sparks flying, and landed well a foot off the rails.

"I'll get you brats, and British Railway will too, you steamies will be scrapped I can give you that!"

But Scruff and Larry didn't listen.

"Ashima!" cried Thomas, Percy, and Flora all together.

"Thomas! I missed you all! I've been traveling the world for years now! It's good to be back at work again!

"Traveling the world? Haven't you been at your mountain railway?"

"Where? What mountain railway?"

"The Nilgiri Mountain Railway!"

"Oh! But that's a narrow gauge line! I'll explain..."

Ashima was very excited. She'd just come off the ship onto Bombay Docks. She'd been built in Winterthur, Switzerland for work in India. There were sections of track that needed rack-and-pinion engines, so the Swiss Locomotive and Machinery Co. was paid to build a few engines.

"Ah, the mountain engine. Get in steam and we'll get you a map."

"Was hast du gesagt?"

Did we mention Ashima only spoke German?

"Uh..." stammered the workman, "I have to get... something." And he ran off to find the dock manager.

"MISTERFOREMANSIRTHERESABIGPROBLEMTHENEWENGINEFORTHENILGIRILINEONLYSPEAKSGERMAN!"

"Wut?"

"The Class X from Switzerland; it only speaks German!"

"Ah, well of course. What did you expect? It was built in Switzerland."

"But the driver, won't he-"

"Indian Railways aren't complete arseholes, they've surely found someone with a grasp of German."

They didn't.

Ashima was getting a decent grasp of how the English language worked while she helped the men build the rack railway. They crossed rivers, blew through tunnels, but it was all, they'd find, in vain.

The engineer ran up from his hike.

"Stop the work! The terrace isn't wide enough for the railway!"

Ashima only understood two words of that: railway and stop.

As it had turned out, the land surveyors had, when they said a rack rail would be needed, hadn't specified that the line would have to be meter gauge. This was bad news, as they'd have to start all over again, and get a different set of engines!

Ashima's two sisters; Isha and Rumana, had been in production when the works got the message, but they finished them anyway before making the new Xs. The three engines were, as they say, all steamed up and nowhere to go. And they STILL couldn't speak English!

Ashima had been interrupted by Thomas' train leaving, so she'd kept the story for tonight. Meanwhile, D40125 was switched onto the Main Line. He would stop at Wellsworth and turn around there. But that wasn't on his mind at the moment.

"So, Old Stuck-Up! Decided you couldn't get enough of Sodor, eh?" The big class 40 grumbled at James' words.

"Well, it looks like you were so desperate to come, you accepted Neville's place. Well, gotta rush, my passengers have to get to the station on time. Tootles!"

D40125's face went red with anger.

He was still fuming when he got to Wellsworth. He uncoupled the train, but then realized there was a problem.

"Your line of cars is too long, it blocks the points, you'll have to move ahead to the next set of points," shouted the signalman from his box.

"Can't we just move it backwards?"

"Absolutely not. If you do that it'll block the points behind you, and after Gordon goes by, Edward has to cross those points. The next set of points is a mile away, you should hurry."

"What a fine day this is!" muttered D40125.

Gordon was racing along the line as usual. His passengers were singing his praises, and he was making good time.

He stopped at Wellsworth, but was taken aback by the trucks just sitting there.

"Ugh, can't Neville's replacement at least but them in a siding? The coal trucks is ruining my image. What would it look like of someone took a picture of me now? It'd look like I was at the coaling plant, and that would never do."

But Gordon finally steamed away towards Crosby.

D40125 had switched tracks and was heading back towards the station, when Gordon thundered past. The Class 40 shuddered, he deserved to be taking that train!

At Wellsworth, he coupled up to the rear of the train, and started out again. He passed Edward

"Grr," he thought, "there was plenty of time left. I didn't have to go a mile away to change the points." He arrived at the Docks in a bad mood.

"Ahoy there, me hearty!" greeted Salty. "We don't often see engines as big as you down here! It reminds me of a story..."

"Sod off, Salty," complained Cranky "we don't need to hear more of your tall tales!"

"Will you shut the **** up and let me tell my **** story! This one's real, when that ********** Gordon didn't like me so Karma decided to rain **** on him and so he tumbled his fat *** into a ****ing field!" screamed Salty, like a true sailor.

And Cranky was at a loss for words!

Western Viceroy pulled into the Dieselworks after being rescued by Diesel.

"Ah, Western Viceroy. Good news, I assume?"

"Good and bad, your excellency."

"Start with the good," said Dart.

"D40125 is on the island for Neville's overhaul. If we stage an attack now it'd be that much easier carry out."

"Ugh, we talked about this, there are no more attacks!" growled Diesel 10.

"The bad news is that a Class 6 has been signed on for Whiff's work, but he seems to be loyal to the steamies. The old teapot is gone for repairs as well, but the known shunter Ashima is taking his place."

"Splodge!" called Diesel 10.

They bumbled out of the shadows. "Yes, boss?"

"Splatter, find the Class 6-"

"Larry."

"-Larry, and invite him here. We'll fix him up. Dodge, take one of those crate disguises and spy on the pink one. Gather every thing we need to know about her."

"Right away, boss!" they chanted, followed by the large bang of Happy Hook messily putting the costume on Dodge.

D40125 had hatched a brilliant plan. He was going to hear about all the engine's most embarrassing stories, and spread them all across England so no one would take Sodor seriously. But he needed the Diesel Axis's help. He raced along the countryside with his slow hoods after Ballahoo, hoping to get a few minutes' chat at the Dieselworks.

"Ugh, more visitors? Did Western Viceroy forget his keys?"

"No sir, it's Old Stuck-Up," said Den.

"That's not my name! It's just steam engine propaganda!" he said. He faced Diesel 10. "D40125, or Picardy, and I have an idea. We find embarrassing stories about the steam engines, then release them to the world!"

"That would work, except for one tiny detail."

"What would that be, sir?"

"HAVEN'T YOU EVER HEARD OF THE RAILWAY SERIES? THE STEAM ENGINE'S ANTICS MADE THEM FAMOUS! THAT'S THE ONLY REASON STEAM IS STILL ALIVE HERE! Now get out of my sight, Pinchy gets hungry when he's sleepy."

Splatter had gotten to the Dump, and had waited for Scruff to leave. After waiting long enough for his entrance not to seem suspicious, he came in, pretending to be all happy.

"A new diesel engine! What's your name, little guy?"

"I'm older than you."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Amoldertanyu! Say, have you heard about our Dieselworks? You could go there to get a tune-up!"

"I had one before I came to the island, maybe later."

"You could have a new coat of paint!"

"I would, but it just get dirty again. I don't want to waste the railway's money on paintwork that'll last a good day."

"We're having a big party tonight!"

"I've never heard of engines having a party... and I'm busy tonight."

Splatter was fuming on the inside. He didn't like acting, and this little diesel wasn't making it easier.

"Maybe you could pick up our trash! We have lots of trash."

"Why do you want me to visit so much?"

"Because I really want to get to know you!"

"Well, it's weird. Please leave."

Splatter snapped.

"All right, you little ****, you're gonna come to the Dieselworks tonight or we'll come and get you and throw you into the scrapyards, and I have associates who'd... er, appreciate your contribution!"

"Contribute to what?" said Scruff. It appeared he'd only gone to Peel Godred and back.

"Contribute to our fantastically good-hearted fund for homeless puppies in Australia, of course!"

"Oh, I'm more of a cat person. Also, we don't have money. And why is a Sudric engine talking about an Australian pet fund?"

"Oops, gotta go, gotta see an engine about some hamsters!"

"Who's he?" asked Larry.

"I dunno. I've never seen him before."

Meanwhile, Dodge had hitch-hiked onto a train at Vicarstown and was now in the shunting yards at Knapford. Ashima and Thomas were shunting cars. Including Dodge.

"Ow!" he shouted. But all the other trucks yelped too, so the engines didn't take notice.

"Ashima, I won't be at Ffarquhar tonight, can you finish the story for me now?"

"Sure, Thomas," she laughed.

Ashima, Isha, and Rumana were being used as dockyard engines at Bombay, when an engine was lifted down. She was the same design as the other three, but a good bit smaller.

"Wilkommen!" cried Isha, who rushed to get a flatbed for them to load the newcomer on.

After they put down the engine, and she was chained down, Isha started asked questions.

"Wie heißen sie? Du bist unsere Schwester, nicht wahr?"

"Unsere? Gibt es noch mehr von euch?"

"Ja, aber wir müssen dich zu deiner neuen eisenbahn bringen."

"Oh."

The dockmen just stood there trying to figure out what was going on, as they usually did whenever one of the Xs spoke.

After their narrow gauge sister left, it was time to go to sleep. The other engines in the shed didn't really like their company, as they couldn't interact with them.

"I heard their line was supposed to be narrow gauge, and so they were sent back here."

"Shame, we don't need their help, we can shunt our own trains." Unlike their European counterparts, Indian tender engines felt no shame in shunting. However, this took tolls on the yards at large stations, as the tender engines would sloppily place their trucks and coaches into random sidings.

But all that changed when the dock manager came to Ashima, who had the best grasp of English.

"Ashima, we, no offense, are in no need of your work here. So we're sending you and some to the stations to arrange the yards."

"Yes, we understand, sir," she replied.

The next day, she left for Madras with a goods train. She enjoyed the run, it was just right for her wheels. But when she arrived at the yards, she lost hope.

"Oh dear," she announced in English because I'm too lazy to continue using Google Translate, "how will I ever organize this yard?"

"We'll just have to work as hard as we can, and not give up," said her driver.

If you climb the highest mountain,

Cross the river deep,

Maybe you'll find it's never as easy

As it first appears,

as it first appears

Just remember not to worry,

Or get down at heart

Never lose faith in positive thinking

You'll be amazed when you achieve

All the things you start,

All the things you start. So,

Never, never, never give up even though the going's tough

Don't stop trying, when you're tiring, and you're out of puff

No, never, never, never give up even though you're feeling rough

If at first you don't succeed, never, never, never give up

If at first you don't succeed, Then try and try again

Nothing in life is ever as easy

But you get there in the end,

get there in the end,

So blow your cares and woes behind you

Start a brand new day

Nothing can stop you reaching your goal

If you're determined, you can do it

You will find a way, you will find a way. So,

Never, never, never give up even though the going's tough

Don't stop trying, when you're tiring, and you're out of puff

No, never, never, never give up even though you're feeling rough

If at first you don't succeed, never, never, never give up!

The yard was all sorted by the end of the day. Ashima's work was shown, and the bigger engines thanked her greatly in the sheds that night.

Ashima was sleeping in a siding one day when the manager walked up.

"We have some new engines working at different stations around the line. We thought you could teach them how to keep a yard clean. The others will be as neat as they can while you're gone."

"Of course, sir," she said.

The next morning, she arrived at Tripetty, where a small, bubbly steam engine was waiting.

"Hello, are you Ashima? I heard you're a very good shunter!"

"Actually, I've only been in steam for a year and a half. But thank you."

"It doesn't matter how old you are," puffed the tank engine, "It's about your accomplishments and how well you do your job! That's what my driver said."

"I suppose so. Anyhow, let's get to those trucks.

Splatter rolled back into the Dieselworks with the good news.

"The little diesel's coming tonight. We'll be ready for him, won't we?"

"Uh... yes. When he gets here we'll put him on the turntable and interrogate him."

"What do we need to know, boss?" asked Bert excitedly.

"Uh, whatever we need," replied Diesel 10. He wouldn't tell them that he didn't really have a major scheme for all this. He just liked pretending they were the Mafia.

Picardy's train left Vicarstown slowly but surely. The empty coal cars giggled and rattled behind him.

"Silly Diesel 10," he muttered to himself, "I had a good plan. Those Dieselworks diesels think they're the ones with power. I'll show them, I'll show them."

Then an idea was picked up by his air intake.

"I know, I'll take over the coaling plant, then none of the engines will have coal, and diesels will triumph at last!" And he raced to the dusty, rural yard to put his flawless plan into action.

Ashima was surprised at how quickly they got the trucks sorted out, but she was even more surprised that the younger tank engine couldn't keep up!

"Are you all right?" she asked the wheezing engine.

"Yes," he panted, "it's just that you work so swiftly, I can't keep up for the life of me."

Ashima didn't understand, no one had ever Taught her how to shunt. It didn't seem fair that another engine couldn't do what came naturally to her. But she wasn't a teacher by any means, so all she could do was help.

At the next station, Ashima met another small engine of the same class. And to her amazement, she couldn't keep up either! Nor could the next engine! When she got back to Madras, she was really wondering why she was so good at shunting compared to the others.

"Ah, Ashima!" called one if the tender engines, "can you get my coaches, the cream ones?"

"Yes, just a moment," she called back, chuffing into the yards. But as she rounded the bend, she saw that the yard was just as disorganized as it was when she first arrived! Each coach was comically at different ends of the yard!

"Aaaaaauuuuuugh!" cried Ashima, and proceeded to shunt away tankers and flatbeds.

The express to Bombay was late. The passengers fumed loudly on the platform, as the engine waited impatiently at the platform.

Just then, the coaches rolled up, followed by Ashima's gray and purple figure. Once the Express left, the stationmaster came up to Ashima. He was a nice man, who knew how to speak to engines. He also knew what Ashima was capable of.

"Ashima, I'm sorry we asked you to leave today. Would you like to stay here permanently?"

"Yes sir, and tomorrow morning the yard will be spic and span, sir!"

"I should hope so," he winked.

The week the railway inspectors arrived. They inspected everything from the bottoms of the benches to the polish of the steel holding up the glass canopy. Ashima was nervous.

"What if the inspectors don't think I do a good enough job?" she whinpered.

"They won't," soothed her fireman, winking at the driver.

Th Railway Inspectors were astonished at the neat and tidyness of Madras yard.

"Stupendous!"

"Stupefying!"

"Spectacular!"

"Where is the engine and crew taking care of the yard? I want to congratulate them personally!" said the fatter inspector. The stationmaster pointed to the siding where the Class X stood in wait of more cars. The inspectors ran up.

"You have done a wonderful job, er, Ashima," said the thin inspector, looking at the nameplate of her side. "As a reward, we'd like to give you a new coat of paint worthy of a shunter like you."

"But, but..." she stammered, "I did not do anything!"

"Really? This is the cleanest yard I've ever seen! That's certainly worthy of recognition."

"Be proud of yourself, Ashima," said the driver. "we did a great job and we earned this."

"Well, all right," she said quietly.

"Come to Bombay tomorrow, we'll have you painted nice and prettily."

When Ashima returned, the other engines were very jealous of her paint, but the female engines more violently.

"How come she gets fancy paint when we barely get a nameplate?"

"She's only a little tank engine, after all."

"She must think she's better than us!"

"We'll teach her, we'll teach her!"

That night the female tender engines stood at the points leading to the sheds and blew soot and steam at Ashima when she tried to come in. Ashima had a coughing fit.

"Why *cough, cough* won't you let me *cough, cough, cough, cough* sleep here?"

"You conceited little engine, thinking you're better than us. Why din't you go sleep in your palace?"

"I have no such thing! And I'm not conceited! I didn't do anything!"

"Get out!"

Ashima began to cry, and raced away to the sidings.

"Why do the other engines hate me?" she cried, "I didn't do anything!" Then her sadness turned to anger, and she started to whistle loudly. The trucks began to wake up and complain, and Ashima started to cry again. Te incompassionate trucks fell asleep once more.

Many years later, the war had just ended, and steam was abundant. New engines had been built throughout the war, and steam enthusiasts were eager to see new models from around the world. And with that, a new event was formed: a quad-yearly competition called The Great Railway Show. The first one was an instant success, with Mallard winning the Great Race, and the Brazilian Raul winning the shunting conpetition. The best part though, was Carlos of Mexico, who won many trials in Mexico but was a bit old, facing off against massive 15Fs and 9Fs. Needless to say, he lost (followed by a lecture on how times are a-changin' and how he was the strongest in his day and he should be respected for that). But the next one was going to have to be better, no doubt. The world must know about this event!

So 3 and a half years later, the Indian Controller came to speak with Ashima. Over the years, Ashima's German accent had morphed into an Indian (because), her shunting had improved to better than it was before, and the tender engines still disliked her... for some reason. Hey, I don't make this stuff up; I just write it down.

"Ashima, would you like to go to the Great Railway Show? I think your adeptness at shunting might win a challenge, and you certainly will win the new Best Decorated Engine contest!"

"Oh, yes please sir!" she puffed, "But who will look after my yard?"

"Another tank engine will come. It's not you, but remember when yoh left for a day in the 10s? You'll be gone for a month! We can't have Madras yard be in that state, can we? An engine is bettter than no engine at all."

Ashima was about to whistle happily, but she saw the blue tender engine rounding the corner, eyeing Ashima closely.

"Controller's favorite, that's what she is!" she fumed. She rolled into the station, where her jet-black friend with brass linings stood. They talked for a bit.

"We'll show that Ashima a lesson, that silly little engine," they finally repeated together.

"Have you heard," asked one of the male engines, "that Ashima is going to the Great Railway Show! How exciting!"

The following incident lives in infamy as "The Cloud inside Madras Station," as both the engines' safety valves burst and made a cloud inside the glass ceiling, but only after trains were halted due passengers fleeing the platform and drivers not being able to see the guard.

Picardy arrived at the coaling plant, and quickly set to work. He shunted a line of trucks, and then ran them over the points. The troublesome trucks laughed and giggled at the plan.

"You silly great engine!" called out the workmen. "Now we'll have to call for Harvey or a breakdown train!" And they did.

But as they did that, Picardy climbed up to the mouth of the mine. There is a mechanism there that pulls up trucks with rope. Picardy planned to biff the trucks into the mine, but he didn't know they were attached. He sent the cars rolling down the mine. No one even took notice.

"On!"

"On!"

"Faster!"

"FASTER!" the coal cavalcade yelled.

Suddenly, the rope ran out, and the empty trucks were stopped deep in the dark depths of the mine.

"Aw, man!" they cried.

Picardy rolled into a siding, and his driver plugged his ears.

But of course, nothing was heard.

As he moved around the yard, biffing trucks, he came across a large transplant machine. It lifted up the smaller mine trucks and emptied them into a hopper, to be placed in standard NWR trucks. He decided to jam it. He shunted one of the many Fred Pelhay trucks onto the platform, and watched it go up. The workmen cried out to the operator to stop, but he couldn't see. The tall truck got smashed by the walls, and then got stuck.

"That diesel's doing it on purpose!" cried a miner.

"Stop him!"

Picardy grabbed a strange pink wagon, and pushed it into the well where the platform would be, to ensure it would be stuck. The workmen swarmed around him. That was when Harvey's whistle tooted.

Picardy raced through the yards to have a hiding spot. The workmen and the miners jumped out of the way, and Picardy sat in a small shed. Harvey was cleaning up the mess quickly, so Picardy raced forward, smashing through the rubble.

"You won't liberate your coaling plant!"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Charge!"

"Wha- er- aaaah!" Harvey raced away, Picardy in hot pursuit.

It's probably safe to say that the villagers at Miner's Halt didn't wake up that morning expecting to see a Class 40 chasing a crane engine.

Larry oiled into the Dieselworks's desolate crater. A raven squawked, and he shuddered. He stopped outside the doors of the main shed.

"Come in, come in, join the party Laaaaarry!" laughed Diesel 10 from inside. Just then, two black and yellow diesels rolled up alongside him, nudging him in. The Dieselworks was ominous, and Larry didn't enjoy it. He recognized Diesel as the engine who brought Rocky to put Western Viceroy back onto the rails. He also spotted a green 08 sleeping in the background (this island had a lot of 08s), and two other diesels on the siding above him. The ground began to shake, and Larry rose up into the air. A crane turned off the lights, and shone a light at a big claw, which began to pinch at him. The light revealed Diesel 10, who eyed Larry powerfully. The other diesels just watched.

The Warship class rolled back into the shadows, and the lights went off. Small lights illuminated who we know as Den and Dart.

"State your name and purpose," Den quoted from the then non-existent Rogue One.

"Good glory, stop playing with the lights!" called a workman, switching the lights back to bright.

"Damn it, you workmen have one job! To shut up!" screamed Diesel 10. The whole scene was ruined.

Paxton'd woken up. "Hey, no one told me there was a new diesel! Hello, new diesel!"

"Boss, there's a crate headed our way."

"Get the 06 off the platform: Dodge has news."

Happy Hook swung his hook to reveal the olive colored diesel. The turntable turned him to face Diesel 10.

"What news have you? What do we know about Ashima?"

"A spies dream, sir; she told her whole backstory right in front of me. She was built as standard gauge by accident, then was a really good shunter, but all the engines were jealous of her paint, she was sent to the Great Railway show, bullied, then was helped by a steamie named Gina, then went back to the next Great Railway show and met Thomas."

"That is something," remarked Den.

"So... she's troubled and has deep inner trauma? Splendid!" cackled Diesel 10.

"Well, not really. It sounds like she's over that now. I also heard something from the other engines about her helping Thomas get through trauma."

"We knew that!" put in Diesel. "When Thomas had a hissy fit about the Great Railway Show."

"Diesel, YOU had a hissy fit over the Great Railway Show!" retorted Paxton. The shed filled with laughter.

"Can I go now?" asked Larry.

Dodge slid into the place where he always slept. "Oh, and Thomas is gone from the branch line tonight. Who knows what he's doing?"

"That's strange," said Diesel 10, his claw grabbing the mouse to the computer. "That should be on the NWR's website, but it isn't. Let's spy on him, and see what he's up to." And they did.

Picardy, however, was not lucky today. The Fat Controller had been at Knapford, and ordered the Class 40 to be flagged down. The Fat Controller was not pleased.

"D40125! What is the meaning of this? Right after being telephoned by the Coaling Plant for your inexcusable behavior, I got called by the Crosby Stationmaster alerting me to your chase. To say I regret hiring you is an understatement." He turned to think. "I'm sending you back to the mainland, but another engine will have to be hired on. Since you cannot be here any longer, you may leave as soon as you can."

D40125 had just rolled to the fueling depot to have a long drink, when Diesel and Dodge rolled in with large trucks. They had heard everything.

"So, Old Stuck-Up, been disgraced again? Takes nerve to be sent away from Sodor twice!"

"I take it you have lots of it, then? I've lost count of how many times you've been sent away!" chuffed Thomas, rolling up alongside. "I still don't understand why you're here."

"Never mind that," fumed Diesel, "anyway, it's good you're here Thomas; these cars need to be taken to the top of your branch line."

"At this hour? I need to sleep you know! Ask Stafford to arrange them, and I might get someone to take them."

"Might? Are you saying my cargo isn't important enough for your God-forsaken branch?"

"Maybe I am? So what? It's not like you're particularly trustworthy, and neither are you Dodge. And I'm particularly wary of those freight cars. Those look like the cars you used to break my bufferbeam before Sodor's first Great Railway Show. The only thing stopping me from looking under those crates to make sure there aren't diesels under there is that I know you're devious, but not stupid. You wouldn't try a failed trick again." He turned to the other engines in the yard.

"Goodnight, Stafford! Goodnight Charlie!" He heard a whistle and a honk in return.

Diesel and Dodge went with Picardy to sleep away from Knapford Sheds.

The Hackenbeck Goods Yard has a double-berthed shed next to the sidings. Thomas and Ashima had decided that they were going to sleep there for tonight, much to the dismay, curiosity, and anger of Percy, Flora, and Rosie respectively. But as it happened, Stafford had beckoned Charlie's help to double head the train of spies to the Goods Yard. And that's when the plan came to action.

After Charlie and Stafford left, the diesels positioned themselves into different sidings, unaware that Thomas and Ashima were in the shed.

"What do you think we should do, boss?" asked Splatter.

"Should we go up to Ffarquhar?" asked 'Arry.

"No, we'll split up here and hope to get interactions of the two supposed lovebirds," said Diesel 10. His disguise was the most interesting. He had a metal shell resembling a refrigerator van. But the roof opened up to reveal his claw when it was needed. Thinking no one was around, he tested this mechanism. Pinchy loudly clicked and snapped.

"Thomas, what was that?"

"I don't know. It sounds familiar, but-"

They were both shushed by the sound of "Shh"s coming from outside.

"Must be trucks," yawned Ashima.

"Trucks don't tell each other to be quiet, something is up."

He opened the door to see the trucks from before.

"Botheration! It IS you!"

If he had any doubts, they were quickly tackled by the trucks each trying to get out of the yard. Diesel 10 stayed still.

Just then, Percy came through with the mail train.

"Get out of my way!" he yelled.

The diesels were chased down the line until they veered onto a different line at Elsbridge.

"Darn! How could we have known he was there?" said Norman.

"Diesel 10 is still there, we can shed these disguises and head back home. We'll hear from him in the morning."

Den meanwhile, was at the Dieselworks, not about to let Larry escape. Not that he was trying, both Larry and Paxton were fast asleep. When he saw the armada of diesels coming back to the sheds, he was pretty surprised.

"Er... what happened?"

"I'll tell you what happened, we went into some sidings at Hackenbeck, but it turned out Thomas was in a shed in the yard! He chased all but boss out."

"Ah, then can't-"

"Yeah, he'll be spying himself. But here's the best part: you know how Dennis' crate had a hole?"

"Yeah?"

"Turned out he saw Ashima in the shed with Thomas."

"Which means you owe me a tune-up Den!"

"What?"

"Actually," added Splatter, "Diesel'll need to do my work for one day. He said Thomas would end up with Rosie."

"And Daisy said that too! She'll be so mad!"

"Wait," asked Paxton groggily. The engines had woken him up. "You made BETS on who Thomas liked?!"

The Dieselworks went silent.

Diesel 10 returned moments later.

"The silly blue puffball found me out too," he mumbled, rolling into his armored shed without a word from anyone."

Thomas and Ashima never found out that the diesels were there for them. As the other engines figured their relationship out, lots of bets were won and lost. During this time, James was able to pull the express for a month, Henry had to do Bear's jobs for the same month, and Duck had to fork over his auto-coaches to Ryan (Isabel and Dulcie liked this. "Duck's a splendid engine, but Ryan runs so smoothly! And anyway, Duck's cheating on us with those show-off Slip Coaches!" they tittered).

And whatever happened to Picardy? He was sent away, and scrapped at the very scrapyards that he'd once sent steam engines to. The Fat Controller gave Neville's jobs to other engines, and brought in a tank engine to serve the smaller jobs that the engine's couldn't do. But I can't say more, or I'll ruin an upcoming story...


End file.
